Forever and a Day
by GEARSGirl5400
Summary: New friends and old foes emerge as the remnants of the COG army attempt to rebuild humanity. What awaits Delta Squad and the rest of the COG? Rated M for blood/gore, sensitive material, sexual content, and language.
1. Prologue

To everyone that read my previous stories, Heron Blue and The Aftermath, I apologize. I just got a laptop and when I logged in, the stories were somehow deleted. Besides the fact that I was completely pissed off at that, I also felt bad because so many of you guys enjoyed it. So, I've decided to write a new one. However, it's not tied to the previous two stories.

* * *

**Prologue**

"This isn't good, sir." Stated Donneld Mathieson as he rolled his wheelchair next to Hoffman. "Five Stranded attacks in this week alone."

"Unbelievable…" grumbled Hoffman. He took off his hat and rubbed his head. "If it's not one shit storm, it's another." He sighed, "Who was all involved in the explosion?"

Mathieson opened a file, which rested on his lap, and read through Hayman's report. "Padrick Salton, two Pesangs, and a couple of civilians. Pad has a dislocated shoulder and mild burns, and one of the Pesangs and a little girl are in Hayman's ICU."

Hoffman gritted his teeth and uttered a curse. _The wars are finally over…Why are we still fighting?_ "We have every on duty soldier on double and triple shifts, sir." Mathieson's words broke through Hoffman's train of thought. "I hate to tell you this sir, but we can't keep on like this. We'll end up wearing our troops out and risk the possibility of getting someone killed."

"I know, damn it." Hoffman replied. He took a deep breath and looked through the various reports scattered around on the desk. Mathieson looked up at him and noticed the stressed, tired look in his face. It was times like these when Mathieson wished his legs had never been amputated. The time he spent calling out directions or orders from the CIC was time that he could have been out there as a part of the force. _The bastard's are attacking from every angle and I can't do jack shit to help them…_ No. Mathieson shook his head. Negative thinking wasn't going to help the situation. If anything, it was going to make it worse.

"What do you plan to do, sir?" asked Mathieson. Hoffman turned to him. When he didn't answer, Mathieson continued, "I mean no disrespect, sir, but if the assholes in command executed the proper evac procedures on the cities targeted by the Hammer of Dawn, among other things, we wouldn't be having this problem."

Hoffman stared at the Lieutenant. Well, he did have a point. The Stranded were six feet deep in acidic hate for the COG because of the Hammer Strikes and the sinking of Jacinto. Of course, some were happy that the remainders of the COG were attempting to help them out, and didn't make any complaints whenever Gears like Jace Stratton and Dizzy Wallin asked for trades. However, Stranded like Lyle Ollivar were the type the world would be better off without. But there wasn't anything that could fix the wrongs of yesterday.

"You're right, Donneld." Hoffman said with finality. "Get Azura on the line… we're gonna need backup for this."

"Yes sir."


	2. Fire and Ice

Chapter 1: **Fire and Ice**

Baird heaved himself off the APC and stretched. He had been hunched over the engine for at least two hours, and his body was already feeling the kinks come in. He rubbed his neck and shoulders and shook his head. How anyone was stupid enough to mistake water for oil was beyond him, but it happened to be the icing on his fucked up week. He already had a staggering list of things he had to do before a three-week mark, and this was a too-close call for a complete disaster. Not to mention that Cole was giving him the cold shoulder for a recent skirmish between Baird and Sam that had left the two individuals on the opposite ends of the world.

_Shit._

Guilt flooded his chest. He was an asshole, and he knew the fact very well. But he had managed to make an incredible feat this week. He had managed to make the hard-as-nails Samantha Byrne _cry. _It was a goal that was foreshadowed from the start, and it bothered him to high hell that he had been the one to do it. It wasn't just because he made her cry that bothered him. It was the subject that he used to make her cry.

_"If I bother you so fucking much, then why do you insist on bothering me!? Jeez, no fucking wonder why Santiago could never get away from you. You're always breathing down on people's asses!"_

Despite the fact that Dom's death occurred almost a month before, the wounds were still there for everyone, not just Sam and Marcus. _But why had he done it? _He had seen how upset it made Marcus feel. Hell, he'd seen how upset it made everyone feel. So it was not a surprise that Cole was ignoring him. He had slandered Dom's good name over a stupid fight that could have been easily avoided.

_"I think you did a bit more than just drag Dom's name through the dirt, Baird." Carmine had said to him, "He was family, man. You insulted someone's brother on false pretenses. And you called Sam a slut. I know that you call her that all the time, man, but that just crossed the line. It crossed the line big time, so don't expect anyone to forgive you right off the bat."_

That was what dug the knife deeper and deeper into his chest. Dom was family. Sure, they never saw each other eye to eye, and he never meant as much to him as what he had meant to Marcus, but fuck, the man was family. He gave up his life to save them. Baird could not even remember why he had even said it. But for whatever reason, it was said, and he couldn't take it back.

"_Sam, I'm so sorry," he told her, "Fuck. I swear to you, I didn't mean it."_

He still felt sore for the uppercut and the PVC pipe to the gut she had given him.

_"Shut the fuck up!" she screamed at him, "You're full of shit! Consider yourself lucky that I won't pop your skull full of lead!"_

So for the rest of the week, he had been locked inside the vast basement of the hotel. He avoided everyone else like the plague. His tac/com was shut off and if he couldn't get to the mess hall at the time of day where nobody was there, he didn't eat at all. Not that he didn't mind. He loved being by himself. More work was getting done with less stupidity around to ride his ass with questions and comments. Though, this time, he stayed down there because he knew that he would be the spotlight on everyone's gossip. And since everyone in Delta Squad knew by now what had taken place, either Sam was going to put a bullet through his skull or Marcus would tear him apart, piece by piece. By no means was he scared, but he couldn't handle it. He couldn't stand the thought that pestered him, day and night, for what he had done.

_Well, dear dickhead of mine, you survived the Pendulum Wars, you survived the Locust, the Lambent and the Insurgency. And everything will fall down on your head as soon as all the fighting's over. Isn't that fucking fantastic? You should be proud of yourself. You'll get what you've always wanted. To be alone. _

God help him, he was getting soft. Way too soft way too quickly. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. He looked around, biting his lower lip, then climbed on the APC again and continued his work. After about an hour or so, he heard a loud knock on his door. He stopped working and slowly perked his head up to look at the door. A moment passed, and the sound of another knock filled the room. Baird sighed and leaped off the APC. He walked to the door, lifted the bar and opened it. He was surprised to see Jace standing there.

"Hey, Baird." Jace greeted.

Baird nodded a greeting.

"Came down to see if you were still alive. You've been stuck in there for at least five days." He continued.

Baird shrugged. "Nothing's gonna get done in three weeks if dumbasses wreck things as soon as I fix them. Figured it'd be nice to stay in the garage and have the slackers get the stuff they want fixed down here instead of wasting time on getting it myself."

"I suppose you have a point. Erm, listen. About that fight with Sam…"

_Not again. _Baird let out an exasperated sigh. Jace looked at him.

"Look, man, I know that it's been rough with you two but you should try working things out with her."

Well that's certainly new. Did he even know about what made her kick his sorry ass? "You think I haven't tried?" asked Baird, quirking an eyebrow.

"I know you've tried." Jace answered, "Just not hard enough."

He had to roll his eyes at that. "With all due respect, Jace, you weren't the one that almost took a pipe up the ass."

Jace chuckled. "You're going about this all wrong, man. You gotta apologize to a _woman, _not a soldier."

"That makes it worse." Baird replied, curling his lip in frustration.

"C'mon man, you're the smartest motherfucker on the island and you're telling me you can't apologize to a female? That's sorry right there." Jace stated as he leaned on the doorway.

Baird narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Do you even know what all happened? As in, do you know _every _detail?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do." Jace answered. His expression grew serious. "And that was as low as you could possibly go. Which is why you have to apologize correctly, or the result will be another round in the rodeo."

Baird stared at him. "So you're not gonna bitch at me for doing it like everyone else is?" he asked bitterly. Oh, what the fuck was he doing? He should be glad that Jace wasn't making him feel like the biggest pile of shit on Sera.

Jace gave him a genuine smile, which threw him into a deeper state of confusion. "No, I'm not." he replied, "It's not my place to judge you or your actions, Baird. You're a human being. You make mistakes just like everyone else."

A string of silence followed his statement. Baird never really paid much attention to religion, mostly because everyone that believed it was full of shit in one way or another. But not Jace. He followed his religion as good as any Gear had ever followed the Octus Canon. The way he revolved himself around his religion made him humble and understanding of just about everybody.

"All I'm saying is it's not too late to apologize, Baird." Jace continued, "Just… put a little bit more effort into it this time. Treat her like the woman she is, not by the uniform she wears."

Baird looked at him. _It'd be a lot easier if the woman she is wasn't so damn unforgiving._

"She'll forgive you, man." Jace added, as if he had read Baird's thoughts, "In time, she'll forgive you. And if she doesn't, at least you'll be at peace that you tried."

Baird looked around, then back at him. "You done with your life lessons?" he asked, a little bit too rudely than what he had originally meant it to be.

"Yeah, I'm done." Jace answered with a smile.

"So I'm guessing I'll go to you once I get my balls ripped out with a vice grip." Baird stated with his usual sarcastic look.

Jace laughed. "You two are like fire and ice. No wonder you never get along." He smiled and turned to walk away, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, uh, by the way," he turned, "Cole wants to see you in the mess hall at dinner time."

His jaw locked. "What for?"

"He wanted to talk." With that, he disappeared up the stairway.

He stood there for a moment until he managed to make himself move and shut the door. As he put the bar back in place, he recapped on what Jace had told him. He rested his back against the door and sighed.

_So what's worse? Sam castrating you, Marcus looking down at you, or getting scolded by Cole?_

_Yeah, you've really fucked it up this time…_


	3. Forgive and Forget

Baird walked down the empty halls of the hotel. He frowned at the sight. Ever since the war ended, Gears as well as a few of the Gorasni have engaged in the one thing that they missed most: sleep. Since the hotel was big enough to accommodate everyone, majority stayed inside their quarters and slept.

Among a few other things. Baird made a face. Well, he certainly couldn't blame them there either. Though he hated the new, quiet atmosphere. A calm and quiet mood was always the tell-tale sign of an ambush, and that alone was enough to tense every single muscle in his body. Oh, chill, will you? The Locust and the Lambent are gone, and to top things off nicely, we're in a remote island. No Stranded at all. Baird nodded to himself. It was about right, but the thought did not calm him down as much as he thought it would.

As he approached the mess hall, he forced out a sigh. Let's get this over with. He walked in, and to his surprise, the place was entirely empty, except for a few Gears cleaning around and storing away the food, and Cole, who sat at a remote table, looking around.

"I heard you wanted to see me." Baird stated as he approached.

"That's right." Cole replied. He turned to face him and motioned him to sit down. Baird did so, reluctantly.

"So." Baird began, "What is it?"

"You know what this is about, Damon." Cole answered. His tone was not necessarily harsh, but it wasn't soothing either. Baird rolled his eyes.

"I thought we were through with this."

"Well, you thought wrong. Come on, man, damn. Out of all the things you could have told her, you chose to backstab her like that?"

Baird remained silent. He deserved that.

"Well?" Cole asked.

"Well what?" Baird replied.

"Are you gonna say anything?"

"What the fuck do you want me to say that I haven't said already, Cole? Yeah, I fucked up. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Cole locked his jaw and looked at him dead in the eyes. "No."

"Then what?" Baird stood up, "What the fuck is it that you want me to say?"

Cole looked up at him. He sighed and shook his head. "Why did you do it, man?"

Baird looked back and ran his hand through his blonde hair. He sat back down. "I don't know. I didn't think, okay. Now can you stop nagging me about it?"

Cole looked at him. "Did you apologize to her?"

"Yeah. Doesn't mean that she accepted that apology."

Baird knew he was looking straight at him. He also knew that he couldn't bear to look him in the eye and tell him, "She deserved that" because she didn't. He had nothing to say on his defense.

"Look, man, I know she instigates you a lot. Still, it doesn't make it right, because all of us are still hurtin' over that. You might've been over it, but clearly, Sam wasn't." Cole said. He sighed. "But despite all the shit you say, I forgive you. I'll always forgive you because in the end, that's what friends do. I just wish you would've handled that argument a little easier, y'know?"

Baird stared at him and chuckled. He shook his head. Yeah, the huge Thrashball star always had a soft spot for him. Out of all the things Baird had managed to fuck up during his lifetime, his friendship with Cole had been one of the few things that he had done right. Cole was right though, as usual. He was the closest friend Baird has ever had. Ever. He was to him what Dom was to Marcus. Maybe that's why he got so pissed.

"Alright, alright, enough with the sweet forgiveness mood, it's making me sick." Baird grumbled.

Cole laughed. "So we're back to the good, sarcastic asshole routine."

Baird smirked. "Guess so."

The two friends stood up and exit the mess hall. "Well that went better than expected." Baird said.

"Were you scared, or somethin'?" asked Cole.

"I got a PVC pipe to the guts, Cole. It couldn't had gotten any worse than that."

"'Course it could. She could've shot you in the balls, or thrown you out her window."

"How about you shut up about that?"

The halls boomed with Cole's laughter as they parted ways. One down, one to go. And this one, by no means, was easier to do. Baird recalled Jace's words.

"_If she doesn't accept the apology, at least be at peace knowing that you tried."_

_Yeah. Easier said than done._

* * *

Sam stared up at the ceiling. Besides being completely pissed off at the blonde mechanic, she was also incredibly bored. Besides a few reconstruction things and a handful of patrols that had went on during the few weeks they've been there, there was really not much else to do. Without the grubs, the glowies, or the Stranded, the Gears had started life over again. Some liked the idea. Others, like Carmine, did not. Maybe she'd go and walk on the beach a few minutes before sunset. Maybe she'd invite Anya and Cole to come and drink with her and probably take pot shots at anything that moved in the bushes. Maybe she'd stay there and wonder what the scientists and the other important figures of the COG thought about, knowing that they had condemned their own kind just to save themselves. No, that would just put her in a worse mood. She sighed and sat up. At this moment, a soft knock tapped on her door. Sam cocked an eyebrow and got up to open the door. Jace was at the other side.

"Oh, hey, Jace." Sam greeted with a smile.

"Hey." Jace smiled, "You're not busy, are you?"

"No." Sam stretched and welcomed him in. "So what brings you here?" she asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something." Jace replied.

Sam looked at him. "Sure. What is it?"

"Well," he began, "I talked to Baird today and-" He felt the room freeze once he uttered the B word.

"Say no more." Sam cut him off.

"Sam, would you please let me finish?" Sam glared. Jace met her stare, though it wasn't seething. It was calm, and patient.

Sam huffed a sigh. "Go on."

"I talked to him today, and I think I managed to get him to come and talk to you." Jace continued.

"Now why would you go and do that?" Sam narrowed her eyes.

"Considering the situation that took place between the two of you, I made him realize that he handled it wrong, for one, and two, he didn't apologize properly. So he's gonna give it another shot."

"It's gonna fall on deaf ears, because I won't listen to him."

"Why not?"

Sam stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. Did he even know what all went on? "He doesn't deserve forgiveness!"

Despite her growing anger and the rising volume of her voice, Jace still looked at her with a calm expression.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because," Sam began, her nostrils flaring, "He had no right to shame Santiago's name like that. Ever! He risked his own life to save us all, and that's how Baird decided to thank him!?"

Jace nodded, still retaining his composure, which was starting to piss Sam off.

"I know that what he said was out of line, Sam, but everyone deserves forgiveness." Jace responded.

Sam's jaw slackened in disbelief. "You're _siding _with him!?"

"I'm not siding with anyone, Sam." Jace's tone darkened. "Let me ask you something, do you care for your team?"

"Of course I do, but he-"

"You'd do anything to keep your team together, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"What will you do if something happened today, or tomorrow, or the next day, and it was down to you and Baird fighting together to keep each other alive, would you let him die over some bullshit argument that could've been easily avoided?"

The two Gears stared at each other. Sam knew he had asked the million dollar question. If they found themselves in that situation, would she really let Baird die over what he had said? Sure, the bastard deserved every encounter with bad luck that he got, but that was no reason to be his Judge, Jury and Executioner. But would she even be able to forgive him?

"No. I won't let him die." _It'll go against everything I believe in… And everything I've fought for._

"Then forgive him, Sam. Not because he did you wrong in the past as well as in the present. Forgive him for yourself." Jace said, calmly.

"For myself?" Sam asked. _Stop with the damned riddles. I hate guessing games._

"For yourself," Jace repeated, "Words are deadly, Sam. They're like bullets. Once you say them, you can't take them back. But what if he tried? What if he poured his heart and soul into an apology, and you threw them back at his face? Would you be at peace, later on when he's no longer around, with that choice?"

Sam looked away. She knew he had a point, but all she could think of was to get even. But was that really the right choice? She could imagine a world without Damon Baird, but then again…She loved having him around, despite that piss-poor attitude he prided himself with.

"Just think about it, Sam. Nobody lives forever." He smiled and walked towards the door.

"Why do you want me to forgive him, Jace?" she asked.

He turned to her. "I don't want you to do anything, Sam. It's entirely up to you."

"But you forgave him, right?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Jace smiled. "He's really not as bad as he makes everyone think he is."

"You don't say…" she grumbled. Was he being completely serious right about now? The man was an insensitive asswipe with no care for anyone else's opinions or feelings.

"Trust me on this."

Sam sighed. "Fine, Jace. Fine. But just because I'll forgive it won't mean that I'll forget."

"In time you will, Sam."


	4. Gears Keep Turning

Baird took his time getting to the fifth floor of the hotel. He needed a plan, and fast. The last thing he wanted to do was show up at Sam's door with blanks and end up with a broken nose.

"_Treat her like the woman she is, not by the uniform she wears."_

Well, that was going to end badly. The first encounter that Baird had with a girl left him with a burning cheek and a bruised ego, and the ones that followed were not any better. Baird could figure anything out, but when it came down to women, he was completely clueless. He faintly remembered Cole telling him that one way to get a woman to come to terms with you was to be three things: kind, courteous, and intimate. That put him shit out of luck, because he was not kind. He could be courteous, but not towards 99% of the human population, and he damn well knew that he was nowhere near intimate with anyone. But he also knew this was a different matter. This was Sam, not some arrogant, self-absorbed rich girl who wanted attention, a personal punching bag, and a stepping stone into fame.

_Christ, this is difficult…_

Shit, on any other occasion, Baird would have given up and not give two shits whether he was labeled the biggest pussy on the face of Sera. But he could not force himself to give up. He _had _to try.

"Augustus Cole, Damon Baird, Samantha Byrne, and Clayton Carmine, report to CIC immediately. Cole, Baird, Byrne, and Carmine, report to CIC immediately." Buzzed out his earpiece.

_Always when I'm in the middle of something._

Baird felt himself sigh, though he could not tell whether it was out of relief or frustration. Knowing how things were since the war ended, it was probably in regards to helping the Gorasni ships that docked on the harbor load or unload equipment. Maybe patrols or even fishing groups. Hm… should he or should he not? _They'll probably bitch at me for not showing up…_ He rolled his eyes and made his way back down to the ground floor.

* * *

The CIC had seldom been used in the calm month that followed the war on mankind. Now, it was buzzing with all sorts of unusual activities. Gears walked about, murmuring to each other or speaking through their earpieces. Baird raised his eyebrows at all the commotion. This was definitely not what he had expected. To make matters worse, the dick-brained assholes that designed the CIC room made it too small, obviously in hopes that it would never be used, and it resulted in having everyone push and shove to get through. Baird seethed. He hated crowded spaces, and shoving through Gears who stood in his way was already starting to fray his nerves. He finally reached the crew, who were crowded around a monitor.

"So what's all the commotion about?" Carmine asked.

Anya waited until everyone circled around a small table before opening a worn file with reports from Anvil Gate.

"Hostile Stranded." She answered, "They're targeting Anvil Gate and the surrounding areas. Hoffman reported a little over 30 casualties, and more than 100 wounded."

Everyone in the circle winced slightly. That many in less than a month?

"Hoffman has…interrogated a few of the captured Stranded, but they aren't talking. However, they did find that they are well armed. All of the attacks were aided by Mortars, Boomshots, Oneshots, and even remodeled versions of the Troika."

"What the fuck?" Baird murmured, "There's no way that mere Stranded can come up with a lighter version of a troika."

"Which means… they're getting it from someone else." Marcus grabbed one of the reports and skimmed through it, "You think Ollivar has something to do with it?"

"Well, the bastard _is _out to get us." Baird piped in. "And honestly, if I wanted to get my hands on some type of device that involves killing a lot of Gears, I'd go to him."

Marcus nodded. Ollivar was a pirate who prided himself on selling and collecting weapons. And the fact that every COG and Locust weapon was up for grabs in every nook and cranny of the planet's surface only increased Ollivar's chances of finding them and giving them to COG hating Stranded for a profit.

"Hoffman has all of the Gears on watch. He's tripling patrols, but they don't have enough people to manage it." Anya stated.

"We'll give him enough people." Marcus replied, "Baird, get everything you think you might need out of your garage. Knowing Hoffman, he's gonna want you to keep everything in mint condition. Cole, get Dizzy to help you load one of the docked ships with supplies. Carmine, take Sam and round up anyone who's willing to fight. We'll arrive as a second wave in case everything decides to go wrong."

They conversed a bit further, then dispersed out of the CIC. Baird glanced at Sam, who talked with Carmine as they made their way to the upper floors of the hotel. He frowned. Apologies would just have to wait.

* * *

The quiet dawn at the shores of Azura was shattered by the loud horns of the ships at the docks. Baird drowsily made his way down to the docks with two duffle bags. This was _so _throwing his brain's sleep clock out of whack. He had been getting up close to twelve o' clock every day, and it was now getting to him. He could barely trudge through the sand in a straight line. It wasn't until he reached the docks that he realized that he was late. Everyone else was already there.

"Well, good mornin', Sleeping Beauty." chuckled Cole as he hauled in a huge crate of ammo.

Baird grumbled a greeting. Sometimes he wondered how Cole could never get tired of his endless enthusiasm. Then again, having him as competition for the Biggest Pessimist in Sera was probably not something he would look forward to. He walked up the ramp and met up with Carmine.

"Thank God you decided to show up." Carmine began, "I was beginning to think that you were gonna pussy out of it."

Baird laughed the most sarcastic laugh he could come up with. "Yeah, I'm _so _frightened of a bunch of scrawny, filthy mutts."

"Well, I wasn't referring to the Stranded." He chuckled as he turned his gaze towards Sam, who was gazing out to the sea.

Baird frowned, but followed his gaze and could not stop himself from gaping. A gentle breeze brushed past, and he noticed her shiver slightly. He could tell, even if the sun had not risen over the horizons, that she looked…different. She looked more like a woman instead of the motormouth Gear that so often got on his nerves.

"Dude, come on now, don't piss your pants on me. I was just kidding." Carmine shook him.

Baird jolted a bit and glared. "Thank you for your sincere concern." he rolled his eyes. Baird knew Carmine was grinning from ear to ear, even if the bulky Gear wore the standard COG helmet.

It didn't take long until they felt the ship beginning its course to Anvil Gate. Everyone on board was tired: in more ways than one. They were tired, of course, because they had to wake up early after a month of sleeping until the afternoon. They were also tired of fighting. The war was over, for god's sake! Sure, the Stranded had a right to be mad, but they blamed all of their misfortunes on the basic grunts of the COG, which were the Gears, and which had nothing to do with whatever bullshit command the high-ranking scientists and COG officials decided to dish out. The bottom line was that the Stranded didn't like how the leaders of the COG managed to leave this world in such a forgiving way, even if their deaths were at the hands of the most brutal Locust in existence. Like the well-oiled gears inside a murder machine, the Stranded were not willing to stop their hate until the group they deemed responsible for their adversity paid the price._ Even if it involved killing innocent people in the process._


End file.
